New Perspective
by CaptainEliphant
Summary: One day in summer, Harry shows up at Peter's door in need of a place to stay - something he had never experienced before. He needs help, and Peter is just the hero for the job. He learned how to live through a New Perspective that summer.
1. Chapter 1

So I'm new to this fandom-y place. I got inspired by _The Amazing Spider Man 2_. I had seen the early 2000s _Spiderman _movies and I just didn't get into them and I hardly remember them… probably because I was younger and I wasn't into fiction like I am now, and I want to rewatch those sometime... Anyways, I really connected with Harry in _ASM2 _and I loved the darker portrayal of him as compared to the previous introduction I had. I'm also going to go off of this movieverse rather than the comics/previous movieverse. And I went to see it again a week or so later, and I got the deep Parksborn feels. And _damn_. Then this was thought of, and I've been needing to write.

So this was born. The title comes from the Panic! At the Disco song, except it's kind of reversed in how it plays out. Let me know what you think.

o.o.o.o

_Knock knock._

_Who could that be?_ Peter lifted his head out of his books and looked over his shoulder to his door. He had just moved into a small studio apartment closer to the university that he'd be starting at in a few months. Aunt May had insisted that he do that and find another job to help pay for rent. Hardly anyone knew that he was living here now.

Peter stood up from the desk and walked across the room to the door, looking through the peephole. _Harry?_ Peter had only seen Harry on covers of magazines with one model or another, but he still knew exactly who he was._ What the hell?_ He opened the door, getting a better look at his… friend. He reeked of alcohol, and it made it impossible for Peter to smell anything other than just that.

Harry had been leaning his shoulder against the doorway while pressing his fingers against his eyes, clearly not expecting Peter to actually open the door. When Peter opened it, he looked at him with wide eyes and mouth opened in surprise.

From a single look up and down, Harry looked messed up. He wore a black suit and loosened tie, with a white dress shirt; his clothes almost looked wrinkled. His face and eyes were reddened, probably from the alcohol and his usually perfect hair was somewhat tangled. Beneath his eyes were dark moons that accompanied by coral rimmed eyes. But what stood out the most were his usually cool blue eyes - they stood out like nothing Peter had seen before. The contrast of red and blue was breathtaking, even in the circumstance.

"Harry?" Peter said out loud, trying to process what was happening. It was the first time in years since he was able to address his childhood friend.

"I'm sorry, Peter, but can I please stay with you tonight?" Harry pleaded. Harry always _hated _begging, and here he was, begging without any difficulty to Peter. "Please, I don't know where else to go!" Harry said with more urgency, glancing over his right shoulder for half a second before returning eye contact with Peter.

He didn't even know that Harry was in the States. From the way he was talking, he didn't seem to be drunk. He actually seemed the complete opposite. He seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing. "Please, Pete." His voice almost cracked, his eyes breaking eye contact and looking down.

"Uh, come inside." Peter stepped aside, signaling for Harry to walk into his apartment. And with difficulty, he did. He shifted his weight off of the doorway and seemed to limp past Peter. Peter closed the door and turned to Harry, who was trying not to look around the room too much. "What's going on?"

Harry returned his attention to Peter, being aware of the door closing and the two childhood friends being enclosed in a room alone first time since Harry was sent off to boarding school. His mouth opened and closed, obviously trying to figure out what he was supposed to say.

"Harry, what the _hell_? It's past two in the morning," Peter trying to lighten the mood while letting Harry know that he needs to _say _something.

"I- I'm so sorry. I-I shouldn't be h-here bothering you. I j-just- I just didn't know what to do..." Harry trailed off, looking in every direction except for at Peter.

"Harry," Peter said as he put his hands on Harry's shoulders with hesitation, trying to get Harry to focus on him. "What happened? I thought you were at boarding school… When did you- What is going on?" Peter stopped himself, trying to get his attention back _what the fuck is going on with Harry right now._

"I-, my dad-, I just-, my-, he-, I-" Harry was looking right at Peter looking as though he were about to fall apart, his bloodshot eyes glistening with defeat.

"Slow down, Harry. Here, sit down." Peter directed Harry to take a seat on the edge of his bed while Peter sat on his desk chair, spinning it around to face his old friend. "What happened?"

Harry sat with one elbow on his knee, the hand reaching, being tangled in his hair. He seemed to be pulling it, possibly out of frustration, and then Peter saw a tear drop run down his cheek.

_He doesn't want me to see him like this…_

"Do you want to take a shower or something before you tell me what's going on? I think I have a clean t-shirt and shorts that would fit you…" Peter suggested, trying to make Harry as comfortable as possible. More so that Harry would have a chance to let it out in private if he would prefer.

Harry just simply nodded, and tried to get up. The attempt was unsuccessful and he almost collapsed. Peter's reflexes allowed him to bolt up and catch him and return him to the sitting position. His tear streaked face looked right into Peter's for a moment, looking as though he wanted to hold onto Peter for dear life. Peter took a seat next to him and wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders, inviting him to openly cry if he wanted. To let him know that he _was_ safe.

Harry responded by dragging his hands up to his face, covering it while falling into Peter's chest, sobbing.

Peter felt like he needed to cry with Harry to let him know that it was going to be okay, and that he was there for him, but instead he started rubbing circles on the dark blond's back. They stayed like that for a good ten minutes until Harry had began breathing normally and leaned away from Peter.

"I would appreciate a shower…" He said, not even looking up at Peter.

"Yeah," Peter replied, helping Harry stand up and gain his balance. He began walking toward his bathroom, making sure that Harry wasn't too far behind and was able to keep up alright. He seemed to be hardly able to keep up, even with Peter taking strides that were more than half as short as his usual length. Peter opened the bathroom door, and went in and grabbed a fresh towel and set it on the counter. "There's shampoo and soap in the shower. Hot water usually doesn't last longer than five minutes… Sorry…" He smiled sheepishly. It wasn't going to be anything like Harry would have been used to. "I'll grab some clean clothes for you."

Harry was still outside the door of the bathroom, letting Peter walk past before entering himself. Peter took a few steps to his dresser and pulled out some athletic shorts and a t-shirt that he hadn't worn in awhile that were generally tighter fitting and should approximately fit Harry, being shorter and leaner.

When Peter got back to set down the clothes, Harry had only stepped into the bathroom and taken off the blazer. Harry was facing away from Peter, allow Peter to stare. His shirt had some blood on it that stood out like a rose in snow that pooled on the left cuff that seemed to be dragged from the elbow. Harry couldn't see the right side of his body, but he was fairly certain that it was going to look about the same. The back was covered with a bronze liquid - probably the source of the alcohol scent. It shocked him and caused him to look on with worry at Harry, who just started unbuttoning his shirt.

Harry became aware of Peter over his shoulder when he got to the fourth button and looked scared for a moment before Peter turned his head out the door, trying to respect Harry's privacy until he was ready.

"I don't suppose you want some of my boxers, do you?" Peter asked, laughing mildly before closing the door. Peter couldn't be sure, but he may have heard Harry scoff at the remark.

o.o.o.o

Thoughts? Suggestions? Continue?

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

I decided to make this a _lot_ more mild than I originally was thinking because my bro and I are going to be writing a Parksborn (Stony involved too~) fic together that I'm going to put my darkness into, and I don't want to write exactly the same thing in two different fics. Because that would be boring *winks*

We actually started writing.

o.o.o.o

Peter wasn't sure what he should do. He could continue reading about advanced subject detection algorithms, or try to make a makeshift bed for Harry. Or just _wait._ Peter ran a hand through his messy brown hair and thought about it. He really didn't have anything to use as a bed other than, well, his _bed_. He didn't have extra blankets, either. And he really didn't want to be in the awkward situation of sharing a bed with Harry.

_I do have neighbors_, Peter thought, remembering that he could go ask one of them if he could borrow something from them. Even though it was _two in the morning;_ a lot of his neighbors seemed to be night owls. Some of them seemed to have night jobs and would get home around six, even.

Peter glanced at the bathroom, hearing the water turn on. _He won't last long in there once the cold water comes on._ _I've got around five minutes. _Peter walked over to the door, grabbed his keys off of the hook.

The apartment complex he lived in was cheap, cramped, and a little rundown. Despite this, Peter still felt safe and almost at home in it.

But _how did Harry get up here with the locked entrances that had a security guard regulating who was allowed to enter? It's not like he would have been in the building before..._ _How did he even know-? _ Peter brushed these thoughts off and focused on what he was doing. He began listening to hear who on his floor was awake. He walked past each door, listening for any deliberate movements.

A majority of the rooms seemed empty, or the occupants were in a still sleep. Except one. A woman lived there that kind of freaked Peter out, but he was doing this for _Harry_, so he could deal with it.

He knocked at the door, hoping she really was awake. If she wasn't, then she may be quite upset with him when she sees a few seconds, Peter heard footsteps followed by a pause, likely she was looking through the peephole before she opened the door.

"Parker. What can I do for you at this hour?" She asked after opening the door, eyeing Peter from head to toe in a way that made him shiver uncomfortably. She was dressed in tight black short shorts and an even tighter matching tank top. She was wearing heavy, dark makeup and her hair was down in a sandy mess. Peter was nearly positive she was a prostitute, given how she holds herself and talks to people with a almost always seductive manner. But Peter tried to never hold that against her. He didn't even know if she worked that job or not.

"Uhm, I was wondering if you had some extra blankets or a blow up mattress or something." She raised her eyebrow when he said _blow_, making Peter pause. "I have an unexpected guest, and it would be great to have a place for him to sleep that _wasn't_ with me," he quickly said, perhaps a little _too_ quickly.

She laughed a bit and stared at him, trying to get a reaction from him.

Peter remained as calm as possible while remaining straight faced, letting her know he was serious.

"Okay, yeah I do, actually." She stretched her right arm across her body, making her breasts spill out of her shirt. " I'll go pull 'em out." She said, repeating the motion with her left arm.

"Thanks." Peter replied warily, letting her know he was going to wait here.

"Be right back." She looked up and down Peter again before walking back into her apartment, swaying her butt that would make some guys completely lose control. Peter furrowed his eyebrows and looked back down the hall towards his apartment.

_The water should be going cold in a minute or two. I hope she hurries up. I don't want to leave him alone for that long... It would be terrible for him to walk out to an empty apartment._

And as if on cue she was back with a few blankets and a medium sized box. "Here. Whatever is going on, I hope it all ends up okay." She said in a different tone than before. She was sincere and almost warm in a motherly way.

"Thanks." Peter smiled, "should I bring this stuff back in the morning?" He asked, taking the box from her.

"Whenever you no longer need them. In my experience, when boys show up in the middle of the night, they tend to stay a while." She smiled back, and put the blankets on top of the box.

"Right." Peter replied, thinking about how he had no idea what exactly he was getting into. "Thanks again." Peter nodded and walked back toward his place, hardly hearing his neighbor's door close.

By now, the water should be well past cold. Peter started having mental sirens going off. _The water is still running. What if-_ He thought to himself, worried about Harry but thinking better of it. He set the box down and quickly unlocked and opened the door. He swiftly slid the box in with a push of his leg and he closed and locked it behind him.

He walked over to the bathroom door and knocked, listening to Harry inside.

Aside from the running water, it was silent.

"Harry?" He called. With no response, Peter called out again with more urgency. "Harry!" He knocked once more, louder.

Peter felt a great rush of relief as the water turned off. _At least he's okay… _Peter turned his attention to setting up another bed for the night. The air matress his neighbor gave him didn't have a pump and he had to blow it up by mouth, which he could totally do. But Harry would probably be coming out of the bathroom pretty soon, so he needed to get going.

He got about halfway through blowing it up before Harry opened the bathroom door. He only opened it a few inches, but enough for Peter to hear him ask "could I have some bandages?"

Peter lightly rose from the floor, slightly light-headed from blowing up the mattress, and walked over to the door. "Yeah, I'll come in and pull them out for you." He pulled the rest of the door open and saw Harry, standing at the sink examining his wrists. He seemed so small wearing Peter's dark clothes. His skin was red everywhere, as though it were scalded by hot water. Peter suspected that he had blasted the hot water until it ran out and then sat in the freezing water, but he wasn't going to push.

He looked at Peter, slightly shocked to see him. "It isn't what it looks like, Peter. I didn't cut myself… I..." He tried explaining, but Peter didn't want him to feel like he needed to force out an explanation.

"It's going to be okay, Harry." Peter opened a drawer underneath of the sink and grabbed the bandages. "Let me?" Peter asked, looking into Harry's eyes looking for his old friend. Harry accepted the offer by twisting his arms so that Peter examine the horizontal cuts.

They didn't seem to be from a knife, but rather a blunt object that removed skin with a sawing type of motion. Regardless, there was blood seeping out that didn't seem to be showing any sign of stopping without a bandage. Peter could see that Harry had been dabbing the wounds with a piece of toilet paper that was sitting on the sink.

Pater washed his hands with soap and water and dried them before he started unpacking some thin gauzes. He cut out enough to cover each wrist with a strip and then to be taped on with medical tape. He applied the first gauze to Harry's right wrist, and he seemed to flinch at the pressure.

"Shh," Peter whispered, trying to calm Harry down a little bit more. He grabbed the tape and taped around the edges, securing the piece of cotton over the gashes. He repeated the same for the other wrist. "Any other places that should be patched up?" Peter asked, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"Uh, maybe." Harry was timid and avoided eye contact, but he moved his hair to show Peter an injury on his forehead. It hadn't been bleeding, but it was still clearly hurt like hell to Harry. Peter hadn't seen it earlier since it was still hidden under the thick bangs.

"That one should be okay without any gauze." Peter got a good look at Harry's face for the first time since in the hallway. His face was pale and stood out against his wet hair and reddened neck and arms. His eyes weren't as bloodshot as they were, but his blue eyes were lacking the amusement that Peter remembered - the spirit, that Harry always used to have. They were almost empty, left with only fear and self-loathing.

"Okay," Harry grumbled in reply, turning away from Peter, going over to his clothes that were left on the ground. Peter thought he heard Harry say _sorry, _but he wasn't sure.

"Hey, leave them. Come tell me what happened, okay?" Peter asked, causing Harry to stand up, almost straight, and he seemed to nod and follow Peter out of the bathroom. It was almost like he felt like he was in trouble, but Peter was sure he'd feel the same. Peter sat at his desk chair, and Harry took a seat on the edge of the bed, paying little attention to the half-blown up mattress on the floor. "So, when did you get back?" Peter asked, trying to remain casual.

"Beginning of the summer… Can't stay at boarding school after graduating, right?" Harry half-joked buy his heart clearly wasn't there. It was unsettling and Peter didn't know how to follow up and was relieved when Harry continued. "There was a guy I was seeing. He came back with me."

"Oh? Is he living here?" Peter asked, interested in what Harry had been doing over in England.

"Yeah," Harry replied grimly. "He's just using me, though." Harry's voice rose with anger. "...he just wanted to extort me in anyway possible. He proved that tonight…" Harry's voice started cracking as he trailed off.

"What did he do?" Pater asked, trying handle the situation gingerly.

"He… I…" Harry sniffed and rubbed his hands down his face. "My father found out that I was living with him in the condo he put me in. He kicked me out and cut me off of his money, and I went to my boyfriend... I thought maybe I could live with him..." Harry almost seemed fond of the idea. "I thought he _loved me_, even without my father's money." Harry shook his head and gnawed on his lip a little bit. "We got drunk. I was depressed about being kicked out. After a few hours of relaxing, I thought we were just going to bed." Peter could hear Harry's voice starting to shake again. "But then he forced me to have _sex_ with him. We _hadn't _yet... I hadn't yet..." He said with shame. "I told him no, Peter, I did. But then he said something about how he had put up with me long enough and that I was going to give him something he wanted whether I wanted to or not… that now that I didn't have any money, I could pay him with my body… He hit me and tied me against the bedposts… He _fucked_ me as hard as he could… he didn't lubricate or use protection… Or… Prep… Me…." It was clear that Harry was trying so hard not to fall apart and was trying to hide his shame. "I thought he loved me… I thought…" Tears started spilling down Harry's face as he shook.

"Harr-" Peter started.

"I thought he cared about me! I hardly was able to _fucking _leave. He went to the bathroom to shit after a few hours of leaving me there, tied up." Harry looked at his wrists and tenderly held one. "I started getting dressed so I would atleast be clothed when I was walking, and he saw me. He threw a beer at me, telling me he would kill me next time he saw me… that he would follow me wherever I went…"

"Harry… I'm so sorry…" Peter whispered, watching Harry while feeling his own heart breaking.

"It's not like it was your fault… I'm sorry I came here. I just- I didn't know where else to go…" Harry's head hung low.

"Don't be sorry!" Peter yelled reaching out to Harry and grabbing his hand and squeezing it lightly. A lot like what Aunt May had done so many times before.

He looked scared from the unexpected gesture, but he seemed to warm up to it after a glance at Peter.

"Harry, you should get some sleep, okay?" Peter offered, deciding to let Harry sleep in his bed if he wanted.

"Yeah, okay. Could you just... Hug me... Again." Harry asked.

"Yeah." Peter kept his hand on Harry's and moved next to his old friend, sitting next to him again like he had before, wrapping his arms around Harry's shoulders.

Harry grabbed a hold of Peter's waist and held him tight, burying his face into his collar bone, crying. Peter started running his fingers through Harry's still-damp hair

He cried longer than he had earlier and Peter wasn't sure how much longer he could cry for. After the sobs subsided, Harry whispered, "I missed you, Pete."

"I missed you too, Har,'" Peter replied and separated the hug. He looked at his friend, seeing how bloodshot his eyes had gotten. "Harry, you need to sleep. Okay. I'm going to finish blowing up that mattress. You sleep here, okay?"

Harry swallowed and nodded.

"I'll be right here if you need something, okay? Anything." Peter looked into the blond's eyes, letting him know he was serious.

"Okay. Thanks..."

Peter stood up and watched Harry climb to his pillow while walking over to the air mattress. Harry seemed to struggle to get comfortable, but he seemed to fall asleep pretty quickly once he was comfortable. Peter finished blowing up the air mattress and put together the bed for himself.

He slept lightly, waking up throughout the night to check up on Harry.

o.o.o.o

Wow! Thank you all for the reviews / follows. I didn't expect that many; usually I get one review and that's a good amount! I feel like I'm going to be writing a lot this summer, so I should keep writing this and stuff c:


	3. Chapter 3

So that thing I was telling y'all about? Yeah, it started. I think it's actually going really well, and we'd really appreciate it if you checked it out and gave us some feedback~ It's called Deject My Plague, if anyone would be interested c:

I'm actually spending more time on that than I am on this, so… Yeah. That's kinda why this hasn't updated in a while. And then I had to go on a family vacation/wedding and WiFi was sucky and I was busy with that a lot more than I wanted to be.

Anyways. Here we go. Enjoy.

o.o.o

Eventually, Peter decided to stop trying to sleep. All together, he probably got around four hours of sleep, so it wasn't too bad. It was only nine in the morning and he rose from the surprisingly comfortable air mattress and went to take a shower. Before entering the bathroom, he grabbed himself some clean underwear and a tshirt, deciding that the shorts he had slept in were still wearable.

Harry's clothes were still on the floor of the small bathroom, seeming to take up the entire room. The bathroom had plain white walls and it basically had three sections: the toilet on the far left, a sink in the middle across from the door with medicine cabinets on either side and a mirror in the center, and the shower stall to the right. It may have been small, but it was comfortable to Peter. He didn't really have to worry about being unaware of another person being there, which he sometimes got nervous about when in public bathrooms. Or he used to before he became Spiderman and gained his heightened senses and got out of high school.

The scent of alcohol was still lingering in the air and was heavy on Harry's shirt as Peter picked it up and hung it up on the towel hook that was screwed into the door, dropping the towel that had been hanging there onto the floor in front of the stall door. He placed Harry's suit pants and coat on the slim counter space between the sink and the wall of the medicine cabinet, just so they weren't on the floor.

Peter quickly undressed and stepped into the shower, turning on the water. The immediate cold caused him to want to climb on the wall and dodge the water, but he stood there and allowed it to wake him up more, feeling his body becoming more aware of itself. The water turned to a comfortable warm temperature and he began washing himself with soap, scrubbing his body.

_Harry didn't seem to be sleeping too well. He did a lot of flinching and struggling, but at least he stayed asleep, for the most part. I just wish he would've been able to _actually _sleep with a higher quality than he was… I should go get us some coffee or something…_

Peter grabbed for the shampoo he kept in the shower stall and massaged some into his hair and rinsed it out. Before turning off the water, he stood there for a moment and let the water run down his head and torso, just taking a moment to relax himself mentally. Once he was done he opened the stall door and picked up the towel and began patting dry his arms and chest, then rubbed the towel through his hair before returning to dry the rest of his body.

He stepped the rest of the way out of the stall and grabbed the clean pair of black boxer briefs he had grabbed and stepped into them. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, noting how tired he actually looked. Sure, Peter was used to long nights with very little sleep, but he wasn't used to waking up every twenty minutes with worry for anything like he had experienced with Harry. He quickly diverted his attention and finished getting dressed before stepping back out of the bathroom, leaving the towel he had used draped over the door of the shower to dry.

Harry had woken up in the time that Peter was in the bathroom and was now sitting at his desk, his head propped up by his right arm. His brown hair was a messy bedhead, but it somehow seemed better put-together than it was last night when he had arrived at Peter's apartment. "Morning, Har," Peter called out.

Harry seemed surprised, somewhat jolting his head out of his head and spinning around to look at Peter. "Uh, yeah," he swallowed hard and deliberate.

"Did you want to go out and get some coffee or some kind of breakfast?" Peter offered, "I don't really have any food here aside from some bagels and poptarts," he smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his damp hair.

Harry almost looked like he wanted to make a witty remark about Peter's food stock choices, but only replied with a hesitant yet thankful, "Uh, sure."

Peter grinned, excited that Harry was willing to go out. "Do you want something else to wear other than _that_?" Peter replied, gesturing to the clothes Harry was wearing. He clearly couldn't wear what he had come to Peter's in, but Peter was sure that he wouldn't feel comfortable with the bandages showing. It was still cool enough outside that it would be okay to wear shorts and a sweatshirt while walking around outside; no one would take a second glance at Harry if he were walking around with a sweatshirt on. There was also what appeared to be bruises visible on his neck. They were hickies. His skin was now a more normal-looking pale tone rather than the pink it had been last night and they were impossible to miss on the first glance.

Harry looked down at the clothes he was wearing: Peter's clothes. The dark tshirt was a bit too loose and the shorts were comfortable but they were still a bit big in the waist and rested a bit too low on his hips; Peter wasn't sure if Harry was wearing any underwear or not, either; he had the decency not to try to check his dress pants earlier when he moved them off of the bathroom floor. A flash of panic crossed Harry's eyes once he realized what Peter was referring to when he said _that_.

"Let me see what I have," Peter said with the purpose of cutting off Harry's panic. Peter went digging through his closet for a decent hoodie for Harry. He was able to find a grey pull-over and brought it over to Harry and offered to him, whispering, "Here."

Peter could tell Harry was still hesitant, but he accepted the sweatshirt and pulled it over his chest. He bit his lip as he looked at the the sleeves coming down to the start of his thumb.

All things considered, Harry looked about normal. From what Peter had seen in pictures, Harry usually had slight bags and redness under his eyes, so it didn't appear as though he were more sleep-deprived than usual. His hair, though, was a total mess from sleeping when compared to the perfect state he almost-always kept it in. Right now it was a bit… fluffier. It actually went pretty well with Peter's clothes on his body rather than his usual fancy apparel. He actually looked like a _boy_ rather than a man. It was a good look for Harry.

"So, do you want to come with?" Peter asked, watching Harry as he still sat at the edge of Peter's bed.

"Uhm," Harry replied, thinking about it.

Peter could tell that there was fearful and nervous thoughts going through Harry's mind: he was probably afraid to go outside after having been violated like he had been and Peter could only imagine how he was feeling right now. After a flash of how Harry had been acting the night before flashed through his mind, he offered, "I could make a run to a shop and pick something up, if you wanted. You could stay here, and-"

"No!" Harry exclaimed, cutting Peter off. After a moment, he looked surprised by his own interjection. "I… I don't want to be left alone again…"

_Again? When I was in the shower? Or last night…?_ Peter wondered what Harry meant by that, but let it slide. "Then shall we?" Peter offered a hand to the darker-haired boy.

Harry didn't accept his offer, as he started getting up on his own. He seemed slightly offended that Peter offered him assistance like that: as if he wasn't able to get up by himself because he was _weak_. But Peter didn't think that, but he knew Harry would be defensive of himself. Once Harry was on his feet, he muttered, "Yeah," and started walking toward the door.

Peter watched Harry take a few steps. He seemed to be walking better than he was several hours ago, but his steps were definitely closer together than what was natural for him; he needed to take extra care with his steps, it seemed. Peter quickly caught up, grabbing his wallet and keys before slipping into a pair of sneakers and following Harry out the door; Harry had stepped into a pair of black slides. Once out the door, Harry went to the elevator and pressed the call button before Peter thought he would. Peter couldn't really tell whether Harry was anxious or nervous to get out of the apartment building.

Peter stepped into the elevator behind Harry, the doors closing a few seconds later. The elevator room was small, enough for around four people, but it almost seemed too small for the two of them. They began descending and Peter did a side glance, examining Harry with alarm. Harry's expression showed a significant amount of apprehensive panic; he was trying to keep his eyes focused on one of the buttons in front of him and he refused to blink.

"Harry?" He asked, hoping his friend was okay.

Harry hesitated a moment before shifting his icy eyes to Peter, "Huh?"

"What's going on in there? Are you sure you're okay with this? I can really just go pick up some coffee and be back within five minutes, if you'd rather stay here…" Peter offered again.

"I was just remembering looking at these buttons last night…" Harry broke eye-contact with Peter and returned to the lit-up buttons. He shook his head while closing his eyes before leaning into the elevator wall behind him, and looking up at the tiles on the ceiling.

All Peter wanted to do was to pull Harry close and let him know _everything was going to be okay_, but he seriously had no idea how to do that. It was kind of difficult; Harry was unpredictable and in a fragile state. Anything Peter said could be taken as offensive or perceived as threatening, and Peter really didn't want Harry to perceive anything he said in either of those ways. So Peter just gave him _space_.

The elevator reached the ground floor, and Peter took the lead this time with Harry close behind. Peter waved at the front security officer and walked onto the streets of Manehatten, pausing to allow Harry to get within his peripheral vision.

"I was thinking we go to this small restaurant that's about a block away. They make surprisingly good eggs," Peter smiled.

Harry was squinting his eyes while looking at Peter, "Sure, whatever you want. I'm not really hungry..."

_He seems so defeated..._ Peter thought as he looked at his friend with concern. He just nodded in reply as he led the way toward the restaurant.

They got there within five minutes, and they got a booth in the corner. Of the other twenty booths and tables in the room, just under half of them were occupied. The diner gave off a feeling of home with a touch of cheap décor. The tables were all grey with a faux wooden border with chairs that were covered in an almost-pukey green seats with floral backing in a pleather.

Harry took his seat first; Peter sat across from him in the booth and was facing the smaller division of the room, facing a wall that had the door to the kitchen along with a counter that had the cash register. The woman that had seated them quickly brought over a couple of waters and menus and told them their waiter would be over shortly.

o.o.o

Seriously, Let me know how you like this. Or don't like this. It's really mundane, which kind of bothers me. I have about a thousand of the next chapter typed out, and if that gets reader approval, then I'll continue as I am (otherwise I'll rethink some things xD)


	4. Chapter 4

The waiter brought the food over to the table and Peter nodded with a big smile saying thanks. Harry was the exact opposite in his reply; he had covered his head with the gray hood and hardly acknowledged the delivery as he turned his face toward the wall.

As soon as the waiter was out of earshot, Harry whispered with a hissing, "_Peter, can we leave?_" He leaned over the table, his face becoming hidden by the shadow of the hood.

Peter had just taken a huge bite of his breakfast sandwich and looked at Harry with disbelief and, with an unchewed mouthful, asked "What?" He furrowed his eyebrows. Just a few seconds ago, Harry was fine, sipping his coffee calmly.

"_Can we just _leave_, please!_" Harry pleaded with desperation heavy in his voice.

Peter looked around, looking for what set Harry off like this. He started scanning the room, looking as though he would recognize someone. He didn't have to look for long before he took notice of a man walking towards the table. He had bleach blond hair that had dark roots peaking out styled into a fohawk and the beginning of a scruffy beard. His skin was tanned to a golden olive tone and was accompanied by these _brilliant _blue eyes. He had black wooden plugs in his ears that were just smaller than dimes. This guy was wearing black skinny jeans with a dark t-shirt and classic hi-top converse.

"Harold!" He called, his voice having what seemed to be a forged cheery tone. After he was within casual speaking distance, he muttered "I didn't think I was going to see you so _soon_." Everything about him reeked of danger and bad intentions and Peter's trust in the stranger was quickly depleting.

Peter glanced at Harry. He had stiffened up and was now clutching his fork in his right hand, looking up at the man from underneath the hood.

"Look, we don't want any trouble," Peter said quietly, understanding that Harry wanted him gone.

"Was I talking to you?" The man glared at Peter and placed his hand on the table. He leaned down, cutting off Peter's vision of Harry as he twisted his shoulders over the table a bit and became a wall. "So you went to this kid's place last night?" He got closer to Harry and started whispering as he peeled the hood off of his head, "_It wasn't enough that I fucked you last night, you wanted him to fuck you too, huh?_"

_Okay, asshole. You just crossed a line you shouldn't have. _Peter internally fumed as he stood up and maneuvered himself in between Harry and him.

"Oh my, look at this." The guy seemed to be sizing Peter up, testing his limits while making himself seem more intimidating. He was half a head taller than Peter and had heavier muscles. "Don't be a hero, kid. _Harold_ wanted _it_," the faux blond sneered.

"I don't think you should make statements you don't fully understand," Peter replied calmly with a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

This set him off as he raised his right hand and started to swing at Peter, who utilized his enhanced reflexes to grab a hold of the incoming fist with his right hand and pulled him down while his left hand grabbed his cup of ice water and flung it into the man's face and chest in one fluid motion.

Peter was just stared at with awe at his reactions by possibly everyone in the room, his eyes looking from the threat to the other people. "Sorry, nothing to see here," he called to everyone. "I suggest you go in the bathroom and dry off and leave." Peter said quietly.

The man huffed and turned away and took a few steps toward the door before he looked back at Harry and then walked out the door.

Peter didn't return to his seat. He turned to Harry and said, "I suggest we go as well, before we are kicked out by the staff for 'stirring up trouble,' or something."

Harry didn't reply or move. He just stayed still, looking absolutely petrified with a death grip on that fork. Peter looked closer at his face and he could tell his eyes were gleaming with a few unshed tears and his jaw was clenched in a way that couldn't be okay for his teeth.

"Harry?" No response.

_Shit._ Peter thought as he slid into the booth with Harry, ducking a bit to shield him from any other viewers that hadn't returned to their own meals. He had one of his arms on the back of the booth behind Harry and the other reaching for the fork. "Harry?" He asked again, taking the metal out of the other boy's hand as he did.

Harry blinked his cyan eyes a few times before looking at Peter. "Shit, Pete. I'm sorry..." He gasped, hardly being able to breath.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked, moving his hand from the booth onto Harry's shoulder.

"I don't know..." He answered as he leaned into Peter's shoulder, clearly focusing on breathing as he took deliberate gasps followed by controlled exhales. "That was him..." Harry said, his words muffled by Peter's shoulder.

"Yeah? He seemed like a bit of a tool," Peter replied, trying to get a bit of laughter from Harry. He didn't. "Do you want to finish eating here, or should I get a box?"

"I… I want to finish my coffee," Harry answered, sounding unsure but he seemed to be relaxing a bit more with Peter cutting his vision off from the rest of the room.

"Sure," Peter was thinking that perhaps he should stay next to Harry for a few moments before going to get a couple of boxes and paying. As Harry reached for his mug, Peter leaned back in the booth and let his arm rest on the backing behind Harry. "So what classes did you take last year? I know they were easy, but what were they?" He asked, testing if Harry wanted to talk, or if he would like to listen to Peter talk about something, trying to help Harry distract himself from what just happened.

"Mostly the usual; an English and writing class, a Calculus." He took a thoughtful sip of his coffee before adding, "I also took advanced anatomy and chemistry."

"Yeah? I took an anatomy class too," Peter smiles, turning to Harry.

"Was it easy?" Harry asked, almost sounding like _him_.

Peter smiled, seeing Harry seem to have lightened up at the similarity they had shared in their time apart. "Yeah, kind of," Peter laughed. "It was certainly interesting, but I was ready to move on before the first semester ended."

"Yeah," Harry agreed after taking a final swing of his coffee.

"I'll be right back." Peter said as he rose to his feet and weaved through the tables to the cash register in the back. He told the cashier that they needed to leave really quickly, and he paid and got a couple of boxes along with a few wrapped forks. He returned to the table, leaving a few dollars on the table, and handed Harry a box and started gathering his breakfast sandwich into his own box.

"Why the hell did I order this?" Harry asked, sounding critical as he gestured toward the biscuits and gravy and sausage links.

"To eat?" Peter answers, getting a half-hearted glare from Harry. "We'll just take it back with us and you can eat it when you're ready to," Peter added, trying to make-up for what he had just said.

"Yeah." Harry said as he finished boxing up his food, falling into step close behind Peter.

The walk back to Peter's was comfortable, Harry still seeming paranoid but okay. When they got into Peter's, Harry plopped himself down onto the bed and Peter sat down at his desk and pulled out a pen and paper, _I should write her a note, letting her know how much I appreciate the air mattress… and that I'm going to need it for a while, it seems._ The little letter got straight to the point and Peter was quickly getting up to head to slide it under her door before he noticed Harry hadn't moved since they got back in the room.

"Hey, Har? What's going on in there?" Peter asked, keeping the distance between them.

"What am I going to do?" Harry asked.

"What do you _mean_?"

"I _mean_ I'm fucking _poor _now," Harry looked up, his eyes full of self-doubt.

"Right…" Peter ran a hand through his hair, wondering what he _should _do. He went over to the bed and took a seat next to Harry, setting the letter on the other side. "I think you need to see if your dad was serious before you get very worried."

Harry seemed to break a little bit at the advice, and Peter _knew_ what he said was a mistake. "Pete, I-" His voice cracked, "You didn't see his _face_. He came to see for him_self_… I never thought that me being with a man would be a problem to him… Adrian made sure he didn't hurt me… making sure that we left before anything bad could happen." Peter could tell that tears were starting to well up in Harry's eyes.

_Adrian…_Peter had a name to put with the face he had splashed water into.

"Have you and Adrian gotten drunk before?" Peter asked, surprising himself in the straightforwardness of the question and the disregard of how it may affect Harry.

Harry looked just as shocked by it. "Yeah… a lot of times." Harry stared at his fingers.

"Did it ever get… sexual?" Peter asked, realizing that he seriously needed to tread carefully.

"...Yeah…"

"Harry, I just want to try to understand why he reacted so poorly when you said no. If he genuinely cared about you…" Peter cut himself off. "How long were you and him a thing?"

Harry seemed to realize that Peter was going to push to find out a few more details about his relationship with Adrian. "Over half a year, but we didn't become _official_ until a few months ago. And then school was ending, and I would be coming back to New York, and it just so happened that he would be coming to New York, too..."

"How did you meet him?"

"At a party… I don't remember much about it, except I blew him..." Harry's voice shuddered with regret.

"Times when you and him were drunk together while dating… Did you and him continue that interaction?"

"_...Yes…_" Harry hissed. "Whenever he'd want to do anything beyond oral, I would do something to distract him from it. I was scared…" Harry closed his eyes before admitting "he was my first _real_ boyfriend… I…" Peter saw a droplet fall from Harry's cheek, onto his sleeve.

"I get it… My first real boyfriend, - we were both exploring our _preferences _- he wanted to try _everything_. Right away, he wanted to go straight to exchanging blow jobs after we made out for the first time." Peter stifled a laugh. "I had no idea what I was doing and I told him that we should wait, and he got really mad. We were _freshmen_! Like, come _on_, Brett! I mean, it took us three months just to make out…" Peter shook his head, remembering what it had been like.

"Did you?" Harry asks hesitantly.

"What, blow him? _No_. And I wouldn't let that brace-face get anywhere _down there_," Peter let out a chuckle and Harry joined him.

"Dude, were _you _still a brace-face?" Harry bit back some of his laughter.

_There he is_.

"Naw, I got those off in eighth grade, man!"

"Damn, just in time to blow _Brett_," he mocked and swatted at Peter's shoulder, being unable to control himself. "When did you have your first kiss?"

"In eighth grade. I had actually just gotten my braces off in time for the eighth grade graduation dance, and I was _about _to ask this girl that I had the _biggest_ crush of my middle school years on to dance with me." Peter smiled, thinking about what a strange kid he was. "And so I went up to her, and right as I was about to ask, she said to me, _Peter Parker, I know _exactly _what you're about to ask me._" Peter imitated, raising his pitch to something that sounded hilarious enough before he added the sassy-eighth-grader-know-it-all twang, "_And I will do more than _just _dance with you_. And she just _kissed _me. I think it scared me away from girls for a while," Peter snorted.

"Dude, you're fucking weird," Harry laughed. "I had my first kiss in sixth grade. Her name was Maria. She was _super_ ghetto and I have no idea why she was in my class. But, me being the cool, edgy sixth grader I was, decided to pursue her. For a sixth grader, she was hot. But everyone was scared of her."

"...And _I'm _the one who's fucked up," Peter rolls his eyes and chuckles.

"Well, was _Brett_ your first boy kiss? I know you said he was your first boyfriend, but..." Harry looked at Peter with eyes full of mischief.

"_No_," Peter said lowly. "It was this _super attractive _guy I had met over the summer at the pool. He was going to be a sophomore and we bonded when I tutored him in math. Cliched, I know." Peter laughed." He was in summer school and needed some help. Or he just wanted to get closer to me. I don't know."

"Well, damn. My first boy was in eighth grade. I just remember it being the first day of school, and I went to the bathroom, and this guy _stared _at me in there. I have no idea what possessed me into thinking that this was a good idea, but I just _kissed_ him. And, he got really upset, to be honest. But I walked out after doing it and didn't see his reaction. God, I was such an _ass_!" The two giggled like they were gossiping like they had nothing better to do. "And that wasn't even the best part! He was in one my classes later the day! He transferred out, though I never got in trouble for what I did, so I assume he made up some bullshit excuse."

"Wow," Peter says. "You _were _an ass."

"Yeah…" Harry smiled fondly. "What's been up with you since then? I mean, have you been dating anyone?"

"No. Well, I guess there were a couple of girls I pursued, but nothing really came of either. I dated another guy for a few months after the two. What about you. Aside from him." Peter dodged the name

"There was a few people, but nothing like him… I dated this gorgeous brunette that was three years older than I was when I was a freshman. And she taught me how it was done. Partying, I mean. And I liked to party, Pete. I liked doing drugs and being around people and being _touched_ and dancing with them, and doing anything but go to school. And I did a lot of things with a lot of people; mostly it was girls. But then I met Adrian and everything clicked and I didn't feel like I needed to keep searching for someone, or whatever the fuck I was doing… I'm surprised I didn't lose my gay virginity sooner." He let out a sigh.

"Har…" Peter started, seeing Harry droop a bit.

"It's okay, Pete. I'm just… I'm confused."

"About...?" Peter had a hunch but he wanted as much clarity on the situation as possible.

"_Adrian_…" Harry let out his name in an exhale. "On one side of it, I'm terrified of him… pissed about what happened… but at the same time, I miss him. A part of me wants to still love him... And I think that scares me more than he does."

"_Shit_," Peter whispers. "Harry, don't be thinking about going back to him…"

"I just keep thinking about where I'd be right now if I had given in and agreed without much resistance…" Harry leans into Peter's shoulder,

"Harry, this would've happened eventually," Peter replies sternly, causing Harry to shudder a bit. "I'm sorry, I-" Peter pauses, taking in a breath and softening his tone, wrapping an arm around Harry. "Don't think that this was your fault…"

Harry didn't reply to Peter's statement, and so they stay like that for a few minutes, just being calm together. Harry leans up a bit, looking to the other side of Peter and asks, "What were you writing?"

"Oh, just a letter to someone down the hall. She lent me the air mattress; I just wanted to thank her and let her know that I wasn't sure how long I'll be needing it."

"Oh," Harry looked like he wanted to say something more but decided against it.

"What?" Peter asked, not letting it slide.

"It's just… I'm such a burden…" Harry's voice cracked a bit.

"_Don't say that_. Harry, I'm glad you came to me rather than going- who knows where!" Peter knew that Harry didn't have many friends, and he had the tendency to surround himself with people that didn't really care about him. It just seemed to be what his father had taught him. "Besides, I'm your best friend." Peter nudged Harry and smiled softly and got a light smile in reply. "So if money is the biggest issue right now, then we'll find you a job. You can stay with me, and we can figure things out together."

"That would be nice," Harry said as he met Peter's eyes with a glint of hope in his.

ooo

So, comments?

I know it took me awhile to get this out, but I took some time getting it just how I wanted it, and I think I like how it turned out; hopefully it was better than last chapter.

Please leave a review and let me know how I'm doing! Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

The rest of the day went pretty easily for the two - Peter did one thing or another to distract Harry and help him feel even a bit better. They just stayed in Peter's apartment and lazed around with a few books, conversation, and memories.

Once it was approaching five o'clock, Peter decided to send a text to Aunt May and ask her if it was okay if he came over for dinner, and if he brought a friend. Naturally, she said _of course, Peter! I'd love to have you and your friend tonight! _and asked if he would be over before seven.

"Hey, Har, how are you feeling?" Peter asked for the first time since the morning.

"I think I'm going to be okay," Harry said lightly. He had picked at his breakfast throughout the earlier part of the afternoon but hadn't really felt like eating much of it while Peter had dug into a bagel and some poptarts.

"Do you feel like dinner?" Peter asked, hoping that Harry would. Even if he wasn't, Peter was still wanting to go over to Aunt May's and spend some time with her and reintroduce her to Harry.

Harry thought for a beat before answering, "Yeah; getting kind of sick of the biscuits and gravy, to be honest…"

"I figured," Peter smiled. "Aunt May would love to have us, if you wanted to…" Peter offered, not sure if Harry would be terrified of being around someone that might be physically interactive with him.

He ran a hand through his hair and let it slide down his neck, "Yeah, that might be really nice. I haven't seen her in _ages_," Harry smiled and let out a light laugh.

"Then it's settled," Peter replied eagerly. He knew that Aunt May was _totally _going to chew the both of them out; Peter for not telling her his friend was _Harry_, and Harry for obvious reasons.

"How soon were you planning on heading over there?" Harry asked, a touch of uncertainty in his voice

"Soon; within a half-hour. She wants us over by seven, so we need to leave by 6:15, but we could always get there earlier rather than later."

"Okay, just let me go to the bathroom and I'll be ready to go," Harry declared, getting up to stalk across the room and through the bathroom door.

Peter decided he wanted to change into something clean and went over to his closet. He pulled out a red and black flannel and a black tank top and changed his shirt; he quickly changed out of his shorts and into some jeans. As he was pulling on his Converse, he heard the bathroom door opening, and he looked over to meet Harry's eyes.

"Now I have to find something else to wear, don't I?" Harry said with a touch of humor in his voice.

"I mean, you _could_." Peter laughed.

"I couldn't possibly appear looking like _this_ when you look like _that_! Peter Parker couldn't _possibly _appear significantly better dressed than _I do_!" Harry laughed, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation. "Why would you change, Pete! You're such competition."

"Let me find you something, then. Geez, calm down." Peter went to look for something else for Harry to wear.

"Find me something nice, dearie." Harry laughed as he came next to Peter's side, starting to look with him. "This looks promising," he said as he pulled out a black long sleeve dress shirt, "but, Peter, why would you think putting something like this in a drawer was a good idea? Dress shirts need to be hung up, not folded away," Harry lectured while stifling back laughter.

"Really, Har? Now's the time that you tell me something useful about clothes?" Peter laughed back as he pulled out a pair of slim-fit grey jeans that he hardly wore anymore along with a white t-shirt. "Here."

"Thanks," Harry smiled, taking the clothes into the bathroom. He took longer than Peter expected, but when he emerged, he looked pretty decent. The jeans fit him pretty well and the dress shirt had the top four buttons undone so he looked pretty casual in the outfit. He seemed perfectly dressed for dinner tonight with Aunt May.

Harry slipped into the slides once again as Peter slung a tan backpack over one of his shoulders and the two set out for the subway station.

"How far away is she from here?" Harry asked.

"Not far. We'll only be on the train for a few stops before we get off. Only a fifteen minute ride," Peter replied.

"Is it, like, safe? I mean, how do they handle security?" Harry asked, seeming more nervous and almost panicked.

"They don't let people on the subway with weapons, if that's what you mean," Peter shrugged.

"I guess that's what I mean… but what about if someone were to try to… y'know…"

"Harry, we're going to be fine. I've taken the subway _tons_ of times. I've never had any problems," _except that one time I wound up on the ceiling… and ripping that girl's shirt off, by accident…_ Peter assured Harry it wasn't a problem.

"How will we get back afterwards?"

"We could take the subway again, or the bus, hail a taxi, call a cab, or walk. Usually I prefer walk, but if you aren't comfortable walking we don't have to."

"Oh, okay…"

"Harry, have you ever used public transportation?" Peter asked, making sense of Harry's questions.

"...Not in New York…" He said, his voice full of hesitation.

"Well, it'll be fine. Here we are," Peter said, leading the way down into the subway station. There weren't that many people there, given the usual number that would be getting off or going home at six pm, but that didn't bother Peter and it probably made Harry feel a bit more secure.

They quickly got on the train and took a seat together.

"Peter!" Aunt May grinned, wrapping Peter in a tight embrace as though she hadn't seen him in over a year.

"Hey, Aunt May." Peter smiled back and returned the tight hug.

When she finally let go, Aunt May turned her focus to the boy on the step below Peter. A look of unsure confusion crossed her face, as though she should know who he was, but she couldn't remember. Harry looked back at her while feeling fear of rejection - was she going to realize who he was and immediately throw him out or something?

"Harry Osborn," She said steadily. "Where have you been?" She reached to run the back of her right fingers down his cheek. He felt himself tense up but forced himself to relax before she would notice, hopefully.

Harry swallowed hard and before he had a chance to reply, May was scooping him up in her arms, the one step difference causing him to rest his mouth on her collarbone. He smiled and felt like sobbing. It had been so long since he felt a mother hug him… When she pulled away, he pulled her back for just a second more. "Hey, Aunt May…"

"Harry…" She said again. "I've missed you. I was wondering what the hell happened to Peter's best friend! And here he is!" She smiled, "Come on, let's go inside and catch up!"

Peter led the way and held the front door open for the two of them, and once the two were inside, Aunt May lead the way into the dining room.

The house was a lot like Harry remembered: it was snug. While he didn't get to look much around the rest home on the way to a seat in the dining room, a lot of the room did look different but it still gave off the same vibe as he remembered. The walls were an olive color with white borders, which matched the cabinets in the kitchen in the room right next door. It was still only separated by an arch. There were wooden cabinets in the dining room that matched the table and chairs with plenty of decorations and pictures. Aunt May seated him on the seat that would allow him to look into the kitchen with a simple glance to his right, while she took the seat with her back to the kitchen. When Peter finally sat down, it was adjacent to Harry.

"Harry! Where have you been?" Aunt May asked, grabbing his hands again.

"I've been at boarding school; overseas, actually," Harry couldn't help but to smile back and try to match her energy, but fail miserably.

"Where?"

"England."

"How was it? It sounds extraordinary."

"Yeah, it was pretty good, I guess. It wasn't the same without Peter, though." Harry replied, trying to make it sound as amazing as he could.

"What is making you show up again after all these years - and now of all times?" She asked.

Harry didn't have any bullshit lie prepared and he wasn't wanting to lie to her. "I guess it was because I didn't have anywhere else to go." May looked at him, wondering what he meant. "My dad threw me out," he clarified.

"What?" Aunt May asked, puzzlement plain on her face.

"Yeah. I, uh-," Harry wasn't sure if he could explain this to her.

"He and his dad had a disagreement, Aunt May." Peter jumped in.

"What about?" She asked, genuinely concerned.

"Just _an argument_," Peter repeated. Harry looked up and saw May looking at Peter, and saw him giving her a look that overflowed with _leave it alone_.

"Okay; whatever it was, I'm sure he's wrong." She conclude. "Well, you're always-" A beeping started from in the kitchen. "Oh, excuse me," the older woman rose to her feet and started to walk off but stopped herself and turned over to look at Harry. "You're always welcome here, Harry. I missed you," She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek and ruffled his hair like she used to when he was really young and began walking toward the kitchen. "I just hope Peter is taking good care of you."

"Oh, he is," Harry replied with a smile. Once she was in the kitchen, he whispered, "Thanks, Pete."

"Course, Har," Peter replied with a smile. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, actually feeling like things were going to be okay. Peter and Aunt May had a way with making him feel like everything was completely fine, even though he knew everything wasn't.

After dinner, Peter took Harry up to his old room and they hung out like they had earlier, only with a bit more interaction. Earlier they had been enjoying one another's presence at many times, but this time, in Peter's old room, they talked about a lot of the memories they had here, and in this house. They ended up on Peter's bed with their backs against the wall, letting their feet dangle off of the bed. It was perfect: as though nothing had changed.

After nine o'clock, Aunt May knocked on the door before asking if they were staying the night. Peter had shrugged and asked if they could, and, of course, she said they were _more _than _welcome to_, but she would be going to bed now. She also asked that if they do decide to leave, that they needed to be careful, and that they would need to make sure to lock the front door behind them. She hugged both boys and went to bed.

"I would like to head back before eleven, if that sounds cool with you," Peter started as he went over to his closet and dresser to start looking for anything that might fit Harry while Harry stayed on the bed.

"I guess…" Harry grumbled.

"You guess?" Peter was alarmed a bit.

"Well, it's just… I don't know…" Harry continued, staring down at his hands. He seemed really tense and uncomfortable since Aunt May left, but Peter hadn't noticed until he glanced over, finding it hard to look away.

"Harry?"

"He knows the area of where I'm staying… I don't want him to cause any trouble for you…" Harry swallowed hard, looking like there was more he wanted to say.

Peter waited a beat until he answered, leaving time for Harry to continue if he wanted to. "Okay, if you want to stay here tonight, we definitely can. I have work tomorrow, so we'll have to head out around eight." Peter was sure there was more than Harry was willing to tell him, so he let it go.

"Thanks," Harry shifted and laid down on Peter's old bed, stretching his arms above him.

"Sure thing," He smiled back before turning back to his rummaging. He was just starting to find a lot of his older clothes that didn't fit him very well but he still kept them around; he pulled as many as he could find out and set them on his desk for Harry to look at later.

Peter spun around and plopped down facing Harry on his bed, "Are we going to share my bed again like we did when we were kids?" Peter laughed.

"We may as well," Harry half-smiled back followed by a yawn.

"Looks like it's time for bed, then," Peter rolled back off the mattress and wandered over to get a change of clothes. "I'm gonna go check out a few things downstairs. I pulled some clothes out for you on my desk; I'm sure there's some that are suitable for sleeping in, if you want to get out of those jeans," Peter laughed before going out of the room.

He quickly went down the hallway and down the stairs, finding that most of the lights were still on. He went to check the front and back doors, clothes still under his arm. He checked the kitchen, finding Aunt May sitting at the table.

"Hey, I thought you were going to bed?" Peter asked, glancing at the clock: the minute hand pointing at the six and the hour pointing at the nine.

"Oh, Peter…" Aunt May said with her voice full of hidden pain.

"What's going on?" He went to the table, setting his clothes on the counter, and sat adjacent from her, grabbing her hands.

"I couldn't sleep; I kept thinking about Harry. What happened to the poor boy? Why did Norman kick him out?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowing with a shake of her head.

"Aunt May…" Peter knew that Harry wouldn't want May to know _everything_, but she deserved to know something.

"Peter. I've always worried about that boy about as much as I've worried about _you_. And the way he looked tonight scared me. He looked scared to get affection, but then he clung onto it. It's behavior that makes me think-"

"Norman threw him out because he disagreed with Harry's orientation and lifestyle," Peter cut her off, knowing how she was thinking.

"What _lifestyle_?"

"Well, he was living with his boyfriend, and Norman found out." Peter stated, wanting to leave out what happened next.

"Harry's gay?"

"Not exactly; actually, I'm not sure, but whatever."

"What happened when he found out?"

Peter sighed, "He went to where Harry was staying to see for himself and threw him out. And Harry was there with Adrian and Adrian made sure Norman didn't _do_ anything, but he… he scared Harry a lot." Peter forced out.

"I'm glad he has Adrian," Aunt May smiled a bit before she noticed how Peter slightly cringed. "Did they break up?"

Peter regretted reacting visually as he released her hands and knotted them through his hair. "You should say that."

"_Should_?" May's eyes widened, expecting a reply.

Peter kept quiet and rubbed throughout his hair.

"_Peter_."

"Look, Aunt May, I really don't think Harry would want me to tell you what happened, okay?" Peter laid his forearms across the table and May looked back at him with surprise. "I'm worried about him…" Peter whispered.

"Tell me what happened. _Peter_." She almost ordered.

"I don't know if I could do that…"

"I might have a hunch about what happened. And I don't want to think something _happened _that _didn't_. "Aunt May took ahold of Peter's hands this time and assured Peter, "you can tell me. Harry is like another son to me, and I love him. If something terrible happened to him, I want to know about it."

"May, Adrian _raped _him." Aunt May stared back with a mixture of horror and disbelief. "From what Harry told me, he got abusive and..." Peter trailed off, "I don't know. I'm scared... I met him this morning." Peter partly wanted to change the subject.

"What?"

"Yeah, we went to breakfast and he just _showed up. _He threatened Harry. I had to physically separate them. And Harry was just _frozen_." Peter frowned before he continued, "I don't think Harry could tell him to stop, much less _make_ him stop…" Peter could feel his face go a bit darker as he finished, "...and it seems like he's thinking of going back to Adrian."

"_What_?" May hissed, squeezing Peter's hands. "Peter, I want you to make sure he doesn't return to that _bastard_." Peter raised his head, surprised at her word choice. "I would rather Harry return to Norman before he reaches out for Adrian, and that's saying something."

"Okay," Peter smiled. "We're staying here tonight, just so you know. I have work in the morning, so we'll be heading out around eight, so we probably won't see you since you start early tomorrow. You should go try to get some sleep, though. Harry's fine." Peter told her, even though it was more like he was telling himself.

"He will be," she confirmed. "And the same to you, okay, Peter?" May smiled as he stood up, keeping her hands locked with Peter's, raising him to her feet as well. She grabbed him for another hug.

"Thanks," Peter smiled and waited for her to release him and go back upstairs for bed.

Peter went to where he dropped his backpack when he and Harry had come inside. He was feeling like he needed to stay up for a few more hours and so he went into the bathroom and pulled out his suit and slipped into it, then wandering over to the backdoor to slip out silently. He checked up on Harry through his bedroom window and saw that he had passed out in the clothes he was wearing for dinner and Peter fondly laughed before leaping away, extending a web for him to swig from.

ooo

I hope y'all enjoyed~  
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	6. Chapter 6

"Harry, _wake up!_" Peter yelled. Harry was still sleeping heavily, but was starting to hear the yelling from his best friend. "Harry, I seriously need us to _go_. Come on, Harry…"

"Wha?" He yawned, barely opening his eyes to see Peter staring at him intensely his russet eyes. He was wearing the same clothes he had last night, plus a navy light wool coat.

"Are you awake yet? Come on, I'm going to be late if we don't leave soon!" Harry only half-heard what Peter was saying.

Harry yawned again and grabbed ahold of the nearest pillow, hugging it against his chest tightly. His wrists hurt a little bit, but the plush felt great against his chest and made him want to drift back to sleep.

"Come _on_!" Then he felt hands wrapping around his ankles and he was being _dragged_ out of bed. He crashed to the floor between Peter's bed and wall, looking up at Peter, now by his closet.

"What the hell, man?" the blond asked groggily, now starting to open his eyes more as he realized where he was.

"That's what I was wondering. I woke you up _a half hour ago_ before I went to shower. And now it's past eight. So we need to leave." Peter bent down slightly and extended a hand to Harry. "I'm sorry, but I can't be late to work and I want to make sure that you're situated before I leave."

Harry accepted the offer and got to his feet as he started looking around the room like he was missing something. The bed's comforter and sheets were crumpled all around and practically destroyed. The clothes were dispersed in three bags on Peter's old desk, making them easier to transport. There wasn't much else in the room, so Harry didn't know what he was looking for.

"I'm sorry, Pete. I was _out_," Harry expanded his mouth again, taking in a big breath of air and exhaling it.

"It's fine; I'm glad you were sleeping," brown eyes smiled before he turned to his desk and went over to it to pick up a bag. "Carry this, okay? You're already dressed to head out," Peter laughed, looking at the wrinkled dress shirt. "So let's get going." He grabbed the other two bags, already with his backpack on.

"Psh, okay." Harry let out a light sigh as he followed Peter out of the bedroom.

They took the train again and it didn't make Harry nearly as uneasy as it had the day before. He was actually almost comfortable with Peter next to him. The two didn't really talk much, and Harry could feel himself at times starting to fall back asleep, his head rocking off-balance occasionally, which caused him to wake himself suddenly. After a few times, he decided to rest his head comfortably on Peter's shoulder until it was their stop.

"Harry," Peter whispered, nudging him awake. "Let's go."

"Okay..." Harry rose to his feet and followed the taller boy off the platform and out of the station. The area was recognizable and Harry knew which direction Peter's apartment was in and he took the lead, feeling a bit more self-aware and confident, even though he looked like he just rolled out of bed.

Peter was obviously picking up on the change in Harry's attitude and letting him do what he wanted. Within ten minutes, the two were in the elevator up to Peter's door.

"Awesome," Peter uttered as he went over to his closet and pulled out a hanger, which had a red short sleeve button-up, black dress pants, and a black apron attached to it. The shirt had his name tag and the Denny's logo on it, as well.

"What's awesome?" Harry asked as he sat on the edge of the bed, realizing that Peter's tone wasn't exactly the brightest.

"I'm waiting tables today," Peter stated as he pulled off his shirt and slid on a black tank top and started taking the red button-up off the hanger and dangle it on the of the door knob. "I usually bus, but they decided they liked me enough to train me to wait tables and interact with people," He slipped his arms into the shirt sleeves and started buttoning it up. "I don't think I like people much, Har," he laughed as he turned back toward his closet.

"Me neither," He snickered a bit back in reply, noting how ridiculous Peter looked.

Peter unbuttoned the pants he had on and slid them off to reveal black boxer briefs; he took them off the rest of the way and dropped them then grabbed for the pants still on the hanger.

_Peter _has_ filled out nice…_ Harry smiled slightly to himself, trying not to stare at the dark piece of clothing.

And suddenly he was quickly pulling his work pants up and fastening them. Harry anticipated that he was about to turn around and so he diverted his gaze to the window above Peter's desk.

"So I'm going to head to work; I start in fifteen. I was thinking of asking my boss if you she would be able to have a position for you since I'm waiting tables now." Peter did turn around to make eye contact with Harry.

_Fuck… I _do_ need a job, don't I…_

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea. If she's willing to hire me, or at least give me an interview, that'd probably be good." Harry replied carefully as Peter shouldered on that backpack. "It would be easier if you were there…"

"Yeah, I figured." Peter paused before asking, "So, you need underwear. I'll pick some up on my way back..."

"Yeah, I do," Harry stifled a bit a laughter to hide his embarrassment.

"Size? Type? Color? Anything specific?" Peter asked, slipping his phone in his pocket.

"Medium boxer briefs would be good."

"Okay. Text me if you need anything, okay? My number is on the desk," Peter walked over to the door before looking back.

"I will," He remembered that he _did_ have a phone in his suit pocket, although it was probably nearly-dead by now. The _waiter_ left the room and Harry was starting to drift back to sleep feeling really comfortable in the room - Peter's room.

Peter barely got to work on time and when he did, his boss nodded at him with regard, acknowledging him. The time until he got on his break was rather tense, but once he went on his break and saw that Harry hadn't texted or called him, he was able to relax a bit and almost enjoy the rest of his shift. By the time he got off, it was 3:30 and he went to talk to his boss about Harry.

"Hey, Deanna," Peter got her attention and started walking with her toward the kitchen.

"Peter," she nodded, noticing that he name tag was off and his apron was balled up into his hand, signaling he wasn't on-duty.

"Could I ask you something?" He asked carefully, not wanting to spoil anything there he had going.

She opened her mouth, looking like she was about to say something witty, but closed it again before nodding, one of her auburn curls falling out from behind her ear.

"So, I have a friend that _really_ needs a job… Could he possibly get an interview to fill a busboy position, or something?" They had just walked into the kitchen

"Why does he _really need a job_? Wait, let's go back to my office." She cut him off before he had a chance to start. She led Peter toward the back of the kitchen, then off to the right. She was a tall woman, right around Peter's height. She wasn't really fat, but she wasn't skinny either. She was rather curvy but filled, and she had a presence that screamed _I'm in charge_. And she was. She was the manager _and _owner; it was weird that she was adamant about having so many shifts when Peter was around given that she also has a number of assistant managers that can easily handle more shifts.. She took a seat at her desk and gestured for Peter to sit across from her after he closed the door.

"His dad disowned him…" Peter whispered.

"Does he use drugs?" She asked quickly.

He felt immediately defensive, but he made himself and think about it before answering. "He drinks a bit, but I think that's it."

"Then why did his dad disown him?" Deanna asked carefully, her dark eyebrows knitting together. Peter had never really opened up to her before, and she was clearly responding to the situation. She had only previously seen Peter's serious-time-to-get-shit-done face. Nothing like this.

_If she's homophobic, she wouldn't give him any special treatment… She definitely wouldn't consider letting him bypass the formal application process… But she deserves to know if she's going to do him a favor like this…_

"He found out Harry had a boyfriend…." Peter broke eye contact and looked down at his apron.

"Had?"

"Yeah, they're over; he's living with me now…" He looked back up at his boss, seeing her looking sympathetic.

"As a person, how is he? Any experience? Would he be anything like you?" She continued, obviously not having a single problem with Harry's orientation, which she shouldn't.

_Did she just imply I'm a good worker?_ Peter smiled internally.

"He's different than I am," he said carefully. "He's more extroverted, but more selfish than I am. He probably hasn't had a job before, since he has never needed one. Money was never a problem for him, but now it is…" Peter paused, realizing it wasn't exactly what he should be telling Deanna. "I think he would be able to adjust and act how he needs to. He's smart."

"Okay. Can he get here tomorrow for an interview?" She replied, pulling out her calendar book. "At ten."

"Yeah!" Peter smiled, excited that he was going to maybe be working with Harry; he settled himself before saying, "Can I ask you to be patient with him? It's been kind of rough for him…"

Deanna nodded, letting a small smile show. "I hope this works out, Peter. Have a good day."

"Thank you!" He flashed a big grin before trying to hide it and getting up to leave "See you tomorrow, unless you aren't managing tomorrow afternoon," he waved, walking out.

He hurried out, going to grab his backpack from the employee closet and he burst out into the street, heading to pick up underwear. He stopped at a CVS for it, and was heading back when he sensed _something was wrong_. After paying, he quickly got out and started searching for an alley to change into his Spideysuit in. Once he was changed, he put his bag on top of the one of the buildings, and he started looking for what was wrong.

There was a significant amount of traffic on one of the main streets nearby, so Spiderman decided to start there, wigging from the taller building, practically flying above the road, Peter wasn't picking up much of anything out of the usual. There was a bunch of mad drivers that had places to be, but none of them were violent nor showed any signs of potential.

As he got further through the line of traffic, he saw something that was more worrisome: there were cop cars line up where the main road split into two roads, blocking off more than half of the roads on each side. There was some kind of robbery, or _something_, in progress in the building that was at the point of the Y. But the building wasn't marked, but it was clearly non-residential. Spiderman landed near one of the cops handling the perimeter.

"Hey, man, what's going on here?" He asked the officer nearest him.

"Get out of here, Spider-freak. This is just a bit of a _training exercise._"

_Training exercises don't happen in the middle of one of the busiest roads in New York._ Regardless, Peter nodded and brushed off the insult as he swung away, heading to take a look from the back of the building.

It was a building that had a triangular shape with a courtyard in the middle, but it seemed to be modified to have a dome over the top of it that wasn't see-through. _This isn't right…_ Peter _knew_ this was wrong. Very wrong. He decided to find a window to get inside, or a fire escape… _something_.

There were not many windows, but even so it didn't take long for the vigilante to find one, although it was locked from the inside. When he spotted another higher up on the structure, he was glad to see it was unlocked and he was able to slide open the window and climb inside.

The building was suspiciously quiet, and he couldn't be sure where this _training exercise_ was taking place. But then he started hearing what sounded like _bombs_ exploding.

_This is _not _good…_ He crept through the was darker than it should have been this early in the evening, but it was clouding up outside he had entered; Peter couldn't make out most of the room, but he could tell it was probably a personal office. He made it to the door and slowly opened it a crack.

"_Ah_!" He hissed as he lunged away from the door; something, or rather someone, pointed a gun _into _the eyehole of his mask, clubbing him hard with it above his eye. And that was going to bruise. It wasn't a simple _handgun _that cops are issued, either. It was an assault rifle.

"You don't belong here, asshole," he whispered, keeping the gun pointed at him. Peter was able to recover from it and was looking at the man carefully, fully aware of the weapon. The guy was in a police uniform, although it _wasn't_ NYPD. It didn't say anywhere.

Now that Peter thought of it, the officers he saw outside didn't have any specific location on their uniforms either.

_What the hell?_

"What are you doing here?" Spiderman asked, keeping his hands up and visible while staying completely still so the guy with the firearm wouldn't feel threatened.

He didn't reply and kept the gun poised, stepping closer to the hero. "Get on your fucking knees."

Peter complied, really not wanting to get shot at today. He had a lot to do later, and that just wouldn't be helpful. "It's okay, I just want to know what's going on here. Please." Peter was practically begging, keeping his hands raised.

_I need to get that gun away from him…_

The man approached him, holding the gun inches from the mask. "You're going to become our test subject, you got that?" The man walked around Peter so that he was behind him now. "Get up. Don't fucking try anything, or I'll shoot. And I _will_." After Peter was standing, the gun was pushed into the back of his mask, "Walk!"

"Hey, I'm not here to cause any trouble…"

"You _only _cause trouble." He stated, shoving the barrel more forcefully into Peter's skull, causing him to wince audibly.

Spiderman was speechless, not knowing how to respond. He _did _accidentally cause trouble for some people… but is wasn't _that bad_… Although, from the other side - those _causing _the trouble he was interfering with… it made sense.

He was led out of the home office into a hallway, and that's when something below them exploded, causing the floor to jolt. Peter tried keeping his balance by lowering his arms and bending down a little, but that provoked the gunman, who fired blindly, more off balance and more surprised than Peter was.

It connected in Peter's right trapezius.

"_Fuck,_" Peter hissed, leaning into the wall to his left. Everything was felt like it was spinning and he felt like he was about to pass out. He _needed_ to get out of there. He was about to become very vulnerable and he wasn't going to be able to keep himself safe for very long. His ears were ringing and he couldn't hear much of what was going on around him anymore.

Suddenly, the man that just shot him was sprinting past him, shoving Spiderman into the wall and out of his way. Peter took advantage of this and went back into the office, off- balance and tripping over himself. He got to the window and tried to to climb like normal. He was hardly able to climb the building with the pain of his gunshot wound. Using his webs to fly through the air was out of the question; he still needed to get back to his backpack, and now pick up supplies for his new wound.

He tried using just one hand to sling himself across the main street, but he flopped into the side of a building, being unable to maneuver half of his body accordingly, falling to the ground of an alley. _Fuck, I can't do this. I have to fucking walk, or something!_ He was lucky that storm clouds were gathering because it caused more people to clear out of the street, seeking shelter.

He applied pressure to the injured muscle, checking how much blood there was. A _lot_. But he was pretty sure that the bullet should have gone clean through, which would make cleaning it up a lot easier. But it hurt like a _motherfucker_.

He turned to a ladder to climb up to the top of the nearest building, and he carefully climbed it with his left arm. It was very difficult and painful for him to try to move the other arm or his neck, even, and he tried avoiding it. The pain was becoming numbing. Once at the top, he was he still had a few blocks to get to his backpack, so he decided to make himself be able to swing there by web. Once he landed there, he collapsed on the roof next to his bag.

Peter forced himself to change as quickly as possible, putting one of Harry's boxers under his shirt to act as a mask-shift gauze. He pulled out his apron and adjusted it so he was able to tie it awkwardly around his arm, helping keep some pressure on it.

He hurried to a pharmacy on his way back to his apartment, shuffling through it slowly. He was sure that the attendant thought he was on drugs, but he didn't care. He got a few bandages, wraps, gauze, and rubbing alcohol. And two bottles of maximum strength painkillers. Going to the hospital was kind of out of the question.

It took him nearly an hour to get back to his apartment. He had forgotten that Harry was going to be there.

ooo

Thank you all for reading! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and some of the ideas that I had when I started this (Harry getting a job with Peter, working with him, more to come~).  
Seriously, though. Could someone tell me why this is so... appealing? Or why the initial idea was so appealing / why are you reading _this_?


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